


What Is Lost

by AnnieVH



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Jurassic Park Fusion, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: Peter needs someone to lead a dangerous expedition.A silly ficlet for an AU Fic Meme.Prompt: Peter/Marcus-Jurassic Park





	What Is Lost

 

“If you have a minute, I'd like to talk to you about the island-”

Marcus doesn't miss a beat.

“Leave.”

There is a moment of confusion where the other man stares at him, taking in his posture, his tone, the look in his eyes. Everything reads as a threat and, if he were clever, he'd turn around and never look back.

Instead, he insists, “I understand it's a complicated subject, especially under the traumatic-”

“Leave.”

“If this is a matter of money,” the man says, gentle where most men would have sounded arrogant, “we are willing to pay for your services-”

“I'm going to tell you to leave one last time, and then I'm going to take the shotgun I keep behind the door and send you running back to Maria Walters-”

“I am _not_ with Maria Walters. You can trust me on that.”

Marcus eyes him from head to toe. He doesn't dress like a lawyer. Not a journalist either. Marcus has learned to spot them over the years and this isn't it. That leaves the conspiracy-theory lunatics that occasionally track him down.

He must have known what was going through Marcus' mind because he said, “And I'm not here to hear stories about dinosaurs, either.”

“Right,” Marcus says, eyes glancing at the shotgun but deciding against it. Another violent episode and he might get kicked out again. He likes this new building, it's quiet and inconspicuous, a good place for a man like him to hide away from the world. Or so he thought. “Then what, you're a fan of my work? Want to buy me a drink?”

The man smiles. “As handsome as you are, I actually came here on business.”

The man takes a badge from his pocket and passes it on to Marcus.

Peter Osborne. Fish and Wildlife.

Marcus laughs.

“What's so funny?” Peter asks, with an edge to his voice.

“An animal lover. I never got one of those before. I've had attorneys up my ass, and journalists, and crazy people, but you my friend, you are the very first of your kind.”

“Does that grant me the benefit of the doubt?”

“No, but it grants you one free piece of advice: whatever you think you're about to walk into, you're wrong. The best you can do is let that island, and all the monsters on it, die and be forgotten.”

Marcus throws the badge back and tries to force the door closed.

Peter jams his boot in the way and now Marcus is seriously considering the shotgun.

“She wants the dinosaurs back, Dr. Keane,” Peter says, as if it were news to Marcus.

“I know she wants the dinosaurs back,” Marcus says, trying to force the door closed. “ _Everyone knows_ she wants the dinosaurs back.”

Peter ignores him and rants on, “But if we can gather enough evidence that they're not a threat, that they don't need to be caged-”

“You want to go there and _take pictures_?”

“Dr. Keane-”

“You want _me_ to go back there-”

“I wouldn't ask if I-”

“You know what, Peter? Let Maria have her pets back. Maybe this time, they'll eat her first.”

The door slams and Peter is left in the corridor.

 

For the next ten minutes, Peter knocks on the door and shouts for Marcus to open. If only he could understand that this is important. It's already been nearly impossible to convince his superiors to approve this and he's just so close...

Unfortunately, so is Maria Walters. It was already revolting that she'd managed to avoid jail time after the deaths of so many people. That she now wanted to start over by bringing the animals to her, that was beyond despicable. They were still her property, her lawyers claimed, and who's to say people were safe from them at all? There had been one casualty since the park had been closed.

“Dr. Keane, my group just needs a guide, someone who knows the area,” he shouts through the door.

Marcus doesn't open the door, though. Clearly, he doesn't want to be associated with what happened at Devil's Island, three years ago.

“Dr. Keane, please,” Peter continues, “no one else will talk to me. I wouldn't ask if I-”

The door is thrown open.

Marcus asks, “How did you find me?”

“Thank you, Dr. Keane, I knew I could-”

“I'm not inviting you in and I don't want to know what you have to say. I want to know how did you find me?”

Peter blinks at him. “Your name is on the phone book-”

“No, that's not what I mean. You said no one else will talk to you.”

“The other people involved, they signed non-disclosure agreements. Their names have been redacted from all official-”

“So has mine,” Marcus says slow and angry. “She made sure of it. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you find me?”

Peter opens his mouth to answer, then thinks better of it.

“Well, I could tell you. If you were to give me five minutes of your time.”

Marcus looks pissed, but he steps out of the way.

Peter walks in before he changes his mind.

His apartment consists of a single room, with a small bed to the side. There is a tape recorder on a desk but no TV. On the wall, he's tacked drawings in charcoal of landscapes and still life. Even though the drawings are peaceful, the shadows on them are so heavy that it makes the room look unnecessarily dark.

“Did you make these? They're beautiful-”

“Say your piece, you have three minutes.”

Peter looks up. Marcus is standing by the door and – yes, there is a shotgun hanging behind it, just within the reach of his hand.

“I don't know if you're following the news,” Peter says. “Maria Walters is trying to convince the public that the dinosaurs are a menace and need to be caged.”

“They are a menace, but go on.”

Peter decides this isn't the best time to debate the issue.

“All we want to do it prove that the animals should be left alone, that they are harmless to humans while on the island. I mean, in three years, there's only been one incident-”

“A child died.”

Peter stops.

“Yes, a child has died. It was a tragic and isolated event. If you were to lead our expedition-”

“No.”

“ _If you were to lead our expedition_ , it would be no longer than a week. We'd take our pictures, collect our samples, and then prove that the animals should be left alone to thrive. And, eventually, die out, as you put it.”

Marcus narrows his eyes at him and Peter doesn't like it.

“Is this horrible idea coming from your bosses, or from you?”

Peter hesitates. “It doesn't matter whose idea-”

Marcus rubs his eyes. “Great, another idiot who thinks dinosaurs are just overgrown iguanas.”

“I'm a biologist, Dr. Keane,” Peter says, offended for the first time. “I know where I'm walking into.”

“You can't even begin to understand it. Those things are demons and they will tear you apart limb by limb.”

“And bringing them on land is a good idea, then? Can you imagine the chaos that will ensue?”

“Yes, Peter, I can. Can you?”

He can't think of anything to say to that.

Marcus shakes his head. “Let Maria deal with it, for once.”

“But I-”

“Your three minutes are up. How did you find me?”

Peter sighed. “The answer is no, then?”

“The answer is no. How did you find me?”

Peter thinks of arguing but doesn't. A promise is a promise.

“I didn't know where to look. With the non-disclosure agreements and Walters' influence and... the limited number of survivors... it's hard to understand what happened there, let alone find someone willing to talk about it.”

“But you said no one else was willing to talk.”

“No.”

“So you didn't get my name from them.”

“No, I found you by accident. I was-” Peter clears his throat. “I was near the island and my radio picked up on something.”

There is an uncomfortable pause.

“You were near the island,” Marcus says, and it sounds like he's finally understood just how insane Peter really is.

“I was.”

“You just have a death wish, don't you?”

“I picked up a distress signal.”

“We sent a lot of distress signals. Most of them are still looping.”

“Yes, but this one was yours.”

Marcus stares at him. “How can you possibly know it's mine?”

Peter looks for the file on his phone and plays it.

It's Morse code, and Peter's is very rusty, but even he could tell this wasn't a regular S.O.S.

“You see?” Peter asks. “It's spelling your-”

“Wait outside.”

Peter looks at him, shocked. If Marcus sounded angry before, now he's absolutely furious. Still, now he's being asked to wait. That is progress.

“Should I-”

Marcus snatches the phone off his hand and barks, “I said to wait outside!”

He grabs Peter by the arm and throws him out. The door slams behind him. Peter stands in the corridor once again, at a loss.

“Can I please have my cellphone back?”

He doesn't receive an answer.

 

Mouse arrives an hour later. She gives Peter a mistrustful look and asks, “So you're the dinosaur activist?” with the utmost contempt.

“I've been called worse, I suppose. Listen, I just need my cellphone back and then I'll be on my-”

Mouse tells him, “Wait outside,” and slams the door again. She overhears him cursing but ignores it because Marcus is already half-done with a bottle of whiskey and now she's worried.

She doesn't bother to ask how he's doing.

“Play it.”

Marcus does so.

In beeps and pauses, someone has spelled out his first and last name.

“Why would anyone send out your name?” Mouse says, haunted.

“So that's it, isn't it? Good,” Marcus sighs. “Good, I thought I was losing my mind.”

Mouse looks at him, knowing exactly what's on his mind.

“It can't be Tomas.”

Marcus pours another glass.

“Marcus, it _can't_ be Tomas.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Tomas is dead,” she says, the only person who's ever allowed to be this blunt around Marcus. Sometimes, she abuses that privilege. “You saw him die.”

“I saw him fall.”

“You saw him fall into a cage, and you know what was inside that cage.”

Marcus doesn't say anything.

“You're compromised. You're not thinking straight.”

“Why do you think I called you?”

Mouse paces the room but Marcus sits and waits. He looks drunk and hopeful and, right now, Mouse can't decide which one is worst.

“This has Maria Walters written all over,” she says.

Marcus shakes his head. “No, that's not how she does things.”

“It's not enough that she got Tomas killed and destroyed your life, now she's messing with you just because she can.”

“Mouse-”

“If this is Tomas, why didn't he send an S.O.S., or coordinates? Why is it just your name?”

“Because we sent a lot of distress signals that day. You remember it, Mouse, you were there. You can't go near that area without picking something up. Boats are told to ignore it. If Tomas managed to make a radio work-”

“Marcus-”

“If he managed, and I know it's a big if, but if he did, then he would send something else, something that would get my attention.”

Mouse shakes her head. She's not convinced.

“I have to be sure, Mouse.”

She marches up to him and takes the glass from his hand. Drains it in one quick swallow.

“Who's that man, anyway?”

“Who?”

“The dinosaur activist.”

“Fish and wildlife agent.”

Mouse turns up her nose.

Marcus nods. “I know.” He takes the glass from her hand. “At least we know who's getting eaten first, this time.”

 

 


End file.
